


Why You Should Never Listen to Combferre

by Actualplanetpluto



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10053458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actualplanetpluto/pseuds/Actualplanetpluto
Summary: If Enjolras ever listened to Combferre he never would have met Grantaire.Featuring Enjolras as the lead singer in a tremendously popular band and Grantaire who we know almost nothing about.





	1. Chapter 1

"No. Absolutely not. I'm tired. It's late."  
"But Ferre-"  
"No. You should be resting."  
"But/"  
"And not just because I don't feel like babysitting you at the bar. As your manager, I NEED you to not be hungover tomorrow. I need all this pep and cheer stored away for that interview in the morning. And I need Enjolras's voice to not crack when he's singing whatever song the host will definitely request he perform on the spur of the moment with no warm ups or prior warning. So he is going to bed right now. And you are going to bed too, because he won't go if you don't. So where are you going?"  
"Bed." Courfeyrac muttered grudgingly.  
"Good boy. Enjolras?"  
Enjolras sighed. "One drink?"  
"Were you listening to me? At all?"  
"Ferre, you don't understand. It's like a runners high. There's no way we'll be able to fall asleep yet."  
Combferre pinched the bridge of his nose. "One drink. You hear me? JUST ONE."  
"Of course, Ferre. You're the best. I love you." And with that, they were dashing for the exit.  
"Hey! Wait up! You aren't going anywhere without me."  
But they were, because by the time he made it outside, they were no where in sight.  
"Musicians. Fucking 2 year olds."  
~~~~~,~~~~  
Enjolras was not a very serious drinker. After an hour, he still hadn't quite finished his first beer.  
Courf had ditched him after maybe 20 minutes. Enjolras was never really entertaining enough. And besides, Enjolras was hardly likely to sleep with him.  
The high hadn't quite left him. He could feel the buildup of energy buzzing under his skin. It made him itch all over.  
"Can I get you another drink?"  
Enjolras turned, rather too quickly, to the dark haired man on his left.  
"Do you want to have sex?" He asked accusingly.  
"I'm so- I didn't- WHAT?" The man stammered, bewildered.  
"Cause I don't," he said. Then he shook his head. He was doing this VERY wrong. "Not because of you. I don't do sex."  
The man was wearing this amused half smile now. "Waiting for marriage, physical problem or ace?"  
"Ace."  
"Bi. So yeah, in theory I want to have sex, but that's not why I'm offering you a drink."  
"Okay. Why then?"  
The man leaned in and whispered. "Don't look, but do you see the guy in the yellow shorts?"  
Enjolras nodded.  
"He's my ex. Except, he hasn't accepted the breakup yet. I was hoping I could convince you to kiss me."  
"That's the worst line, I've EVER heard," Enjolras gasped.  
"It's SO not a line," he said, indignantly. "But I could just ask someone else. Do you think that friend of yours would do it?"  
"Ha. He probably would," Enjolras said proudly, "but I think he's already left with some other guy."  
"Alright, I'll find someo-" he cut off with s gasp as Enjolras grabbed his face and kissed him quickly.  
The kiss tasted like scotch and barely lasted a second. The man pulled away and said "thanks, that was-"  
"He's still there," Enjolras said, feeling slightly giddy. "We'll have to do better." He kissed him again and this time neither one pulled away.  
When the kiss finally ended, Enjolras started laughing. "Come with me," he said, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him out of the bar.  
Outside, he slid an arm around the mans waist and started walking. "I think he got the hint. Walk me to my hotel?"  
"Sure. Can I get your name?"  
"Enjolras. You?"  
"Grantaire."  
"Nice to meet you. Feels like we did that in the wrong order."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey! I said no going out tonight!!" Combferre was yelling after them as they climbed into the waiting cab.  
"I am your MANAGER! You complete ASSHOLES! If you don't wake up tomorrow I am TAKING AWAY YOUR DRINKING PRIVELEGES ALTOGETHER!!"  
Jehan was practically giggling as the driver pulled away from the curb. "If we listened to him we'd NEVER go ANYWHERE! He even tried to stop me attending my art show."  
"Don't be mean," Courfeyrac laughed. "He's a manager. He has too be boring sometimes. He's professional. That's why we hired him."  
"I bet YOU wish he was less professional," Jehan said slyly.  
Courfeyrac tried to glare at them, but it didn't last long.  
"Holy shit, Jehan. If he could just chill for one minute-."  
"Nah," Enjolras Interrupted. "You like the stick up his ass."  
"He wants to BE the-"  
"Shut up Jehan!" Courf screeched, covering his face. "What's the matter with you?"  
"What? It's totally-"  
"I'm going to throw you out of the cab!"  
Enjolras groaned at their antics. Maybe he should just walk. The car felt too cramped anyway.  
He was just about ready to get out when they reached their destination.  
He was quickly abandoned by his friends and -as usual- found himself sitting at the bar alone.  
He felt jumpy and energized but unlike Jehan, he couldn't blow off steam by frantically making out with some guy in hot pink.  
Luckily, there were other options.  
"You are the problem!" He was yelling at a group of twenty somethings. "People like you! Just shut your fucking mouths!"  
"We're allowed to say what we want," the group leader said snidely. He was so stereotypically white, Enjolras wanted to vomit. "Freedom of speech, Am I right?"  
"Yeah, no. Freedom of speech doesn't let you and all your little white friends say racist, islamophobic things that make nice girls want to leave the bar!"  
"Let her leave the bar! In fact," the asswipe turned to the girl, who was trying to look calm. "Why don't you leave my damn country while you're at it? Go back to Isis or whichever terrorist country you come from."  
"HEY!" Enjolras grabbed the guys shoulder. "YOU DONT GET TO FUCKING TALK TO HER!"  
"Let go of me *******," the white boy shouted, before punching Enjolras in the face. That was all the permission he needed. He threw a punch if his own and smiled in satisfaction when the guy shrieked (actually shrieked!).  
Enjolras was glad when his fuckboy cronies decided to jump in, egged on by their girlfriends. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. The feeling of it was so strong that he barely felt the punches and kicks being them at him until he found himself on the floor unable to fight back as five different people attacked him.  
He curled in on himself, keeping the grey and fists away from his ribs and waited.  
Surely this wouldn't be allowed to go on for long.  
Sure enough-barely a minute later- they were being pulled off him. In the background, Enjolras could hear the bartender yelling about calling the cops and then someone was reaching down and grabbing his shoulder, helping him up.  
And the someone was laughing, high on adrenaline and Enjolras didn't notice that he was laughing too until they both stopped abruptly.  
"Hey," Grantaire said, just on the edge of breathless. "It's you."  
Enjolras stared up at him for a minute before standing. "Hey." It had been 5 months since his concert in New York, yet the name, the face were all as clear in his memory as if they'd happened days ago.  
"Enjolras, yeah?" His mouth quirked in what could have been a half smile. "Can I get you another drink?"  
"What? That ex still chasing you around? Do I need to kiss away the douchebags?"  
"No. But I think the knight in shining armor deserves a drink," he answered, a broad grin brightening his face.  
"Then shouldn't I be buying?"  
Grantaire frowned for a minute, before chuckling. "I'M not the knight in shining armor," he said. "I was talking about you helping my friend." He pointed over at the girl in the hijab, who waved and mouthed 'thank you'.  
"That's Cosette. She's a total badass, by the way. Probably would have yelled at them herself if they were bugging someone else." He frowned again, quickly. (Enjolras was a bit in awe of his face. It was so expressive!) "I'm not trying to take away from what you did or anything. It was so badass and ho-" he stopped short, liking agitated. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this. Also, a little drunk." His frowned deepened, and he reached a hand towards Enjolras's face, before pulling it back sharply. "You're getting a black eye," he murmured distractedly.  
It was at that moment that Courfeyrac decided to reappear.  
"FERRE IS GONNA KILL YOU!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you know I hate you?" Combferre asked resignedly as Joly examined the bruises littering Enjolras's chest and arms.   
"He's okay. Bit of bruising. Black eye. Nothing broken. Can I get to sleep now? I've been feeling a little under the weather."  
"Yeah thanks, night Joly." Combferre turned back to Enjolras. "You had to pick a fight the night before your photo shoot."  
"He didn't pick a fight," Jehan said, in a voice that was somewhere between indignant and giggling. "There was a girl-"  
"Don't you get started, piano man. Unless you want to tell me what you were so busy with while Lancelot here was getting himself a black eye? I asked you all to stay in. The least you could've done was behave yourself. He looked at them with a small frown. "Where's Courf in all this?"  
"He turned in early," they lied in unison.   
"Get some ice on that eye, Lancelot, and pray that Feuilly can do something to cover it up."  
\----------  
Courfeyrac and Jehan were both grounded tonight, so Enjolras had wheedled Marius into going out with him.   
While he was an essential part of the band, Marius rarely joined them when they went out at night. He was a quieter guy, and he preferred reading in his room to getting drunk.   
Since it was Marius, they had chosen a very out of the way piano bar, so it was rather empty compared to their usual choices.   
It was quiet and welcoming. An older woman was at the piano, plunking out a soft melody, while the woman sharing the bench sang quietly in her ear. A young couple was trying to solve a sudoku, clearly struggling, probably due to the empty shot glasses cluttering the table.   
A group of young people argued quietly around a table in the back.   
Courf and Jehan would've wrecked this place.  
The bartender was friendly, though not very talkative and Marius was quiet and introspective.   
Somehow Enjolras always ended up alone with his thoughts in bars.   
Well not always, his mind prodded unhelpfully.   
For some reason Marius hadn't come back. He had gone to the bathroom- well Rnjolras wasn't sure how long ago, but it was definitely too long for the bathroom.   
He rubbed his eyes.   
This was not a runners-high night. They had been shooting a music video and it had been exhausting.   
Apparently a good music video needs a lot of running. And apparently the running is a very specific run that requires about 6 or 7 takes to get right.   
There had been no singing, no crowd. Just the same 10 second scenes over and over.   
He was about to stand when someone slid into the stool beside him.   
"Can I get you another drink?"  
Enjolras's head jerked up.   
"Grantaire?" Then, rather stupidly, "You have tattoos."  
Grantaire rubbed at his bare arms, almost self consciously.   
"And you're a world famous rockstar." Grantaire called the bartender over and ordered a drink Grantaire had never heard of. Enjolras was only red in the face because of all the alcohol. ;(One beer and one shot of something light that Marius liked but was too embarrassed to order alone.)  
"You didn't mention it," Grantaire continued.   
"It never came up." The drinks arrived and Grantaire stuffed some bills in the tip jar.   
"We've known each other for over a year now."  
"We've spoken twice. And even that was mostly about alcohol."  
"And sex," Grantaire supplied helpfully. "Speaking of which, where's your sparkly boy?"  
"Grounded. He had this, Enjolras paused, blushed, took a long drink. "This, well this small party and overslept and missed practice. But I think it's actually because the uh- the party kept Ferre up."  
Grantaire grinned. "How small?"  
"2 people?"  
"Well nut so much a party, then."  
"I probably shouldn't be discussing this."  
"So is Ferre the big bad man who was gonna kill you?"  
Enjolras blinked at him owlishly. "Do you remember every word of our meetings?"  
It was Grantaire's turn to go red. "Well you're a famous rockstar!"  
"How'd you find out?"  
"Cosette. She's into celebrity stuff. Your remember her? She's actually talking to your puppy. He mentioned you and she sent me over." He gestured to a point beyond the bar and Enjolras leaned over to see.   
Marius was sitting at a little table with the girl- with Cosette- who was gesturing eloquently while she spoke. There was a smile on her face and a brightness in her eyes that Enjolras felt could light up all of Paris or heal souls.   
Maybe he was drunk. He took another drink.   
But maybe he wasn't far off, because Narius was leaning towards her, like a flower seeking the sun. He had this rather comical, dopey smile on his face and his chin propped on both fists.   
Enjolras frowned. Every time Marius fell in love it ended badly.   
"So what have you been up to these last seven months?" Grantaire asked.   
"Singing, mostly. Being dragged around to Courf's bars and Jehan's art things. Sometimes Marius's poetry readings."  
"Don't you do anything you like?" Grantaire asked softly.   
Enjolras smiled. "I write my music."  
"I like your music," Grantaire said. Their voices had been getting progressively quieter, without Enjolras noticing, and they were leaning into each other. "They inspire me. They make me want to start a revolution."  
Grantaire's breath smelled like scotch and Enjolras was beginning to feel dizzy. "You are a revolution," he whispered. Then he frowned because he didn't actually know what that meant.   
But Geantaire was smiling broadly. "It's almost closing time. Let me walk you to your hotel."  
The walk back was peaceful.   
Just before they parted, Grantaire grabbed Enjolras's phone from his pocket.   
"So you can text me. If you're ever bored at Jehan's art things."   
Enjolras wanted to kiss him. He really did.   
"Fuck it," He thought. He leaned in.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!  
> Also, come talk to me at actualplanetpluto.tumblr.com


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